At least Bump didn’t try to crowd surf, I think as he rushes up to us.
“Wasn’t that so badass? Could you feel the energy? I was in thezone, man!”
I don’t know if it’s possible to get high off an air-guitar performance, but Bump looks like he’s blissed out to the max.
I squat down to the ground, and Scarlett scrambles off my back and throws herself at Bump for a hug.
“You wereamazing! Your stage presence is legendary!”
Bump smiles so wide, his face may split in half. “It’s because I’m an honorary Legend.”
When he releases Scarlett, I take my turn, giving him a back-slapping hug. “Killed it, bud. Damn fine job.”
He fist-bumps Hal before looking at me with a hopeful expression. “I’m so hungry after that set. Can I get a corn dog and fries? You know I gotta feed my inner rock god.”
It takes everything I have to keep a straight face. “Yeah, bud. Let’s go get you some food.”
“I could be talked into french fries,” Scarlett says with a grin. “Because I can smell them from here, and my stomach is sending out clear ‘get in my belly’ signals.”
“Yes!” Bump plays another air riff before charging through the crowd. People slap him on the back and give him high fives, and he handles it like a damn rock star.
Maybe I should get him a real guitar.That thought is quickly followed up by a second one—when I don’t ever have to share a wall with him again.
Why didn’t I think of it before? Probably because I’ve been so worried about getting the club up and running and going legit, I’ve had tunnel vision for way too long. That’s coming to an end.
“You want anything? Or ... can you eat anything with your training?” Scarlett asks as she takes a step to follow after Hal, who is a few feet behind Bump.
“A few fries won’t hurt me. I’ll eat more broccoli later.”
“Good. Let’s get in line before Bump sweet-talks his way to the front using the ‘I’m with the band’ line.”
I chuckle as she threads her fingers through mine and tugs me along behind her. My feet almost stay planted to the ground, though, because I’m staring at our hands. Scarlett looks back and then down at them.
“Something wrong?” she asks.
“No. Not at all. I just like holding your hand. I like it a lot.”
The soft glow of happiness radiates from her entire face. “I like holding your hand too, stud. It’s one of my very favorite things.”
It’s so different from the faint echo of my mother’s voice in my head.“You’re too old to be holding my hand, aren’t you, boy?”
Something that’s been inside me for a long damn time—a hardened edge, sharpened by my mother’s abandonment—dissipates like mist rising off the surface of the Hudson.
I follow along behind her, feeling so fucking grateful for this day that nothing can possibly bring me down.
Twenty-Eight
Scarlett
We finda picnic table in the middle of the park. Bump leans his inflatable guitar carefully against the side so he can devote his full attention to devouring the three corn dogs he ordered.
I fear for his stomach, but I can’t say anything because he looks so confident and proud.
Watching him onstage was a riot. If that performance doesn’t prompt Gabriel to buy him a real guitar and get him lessons after things settle down, I will do it myself.I mean,after we discuss it like adults and find him a soundproof place where he can practice. But in my head, I’m already trying to decide what color guitar he would want. Black or blue, maybe?
“I forgot how good these things are,” Hal says with a moan of pleasure as he takes a bite of his own corn dog.Brave man.
As Gabriel takes over hawk-eye duty while Hal grabs a bite, he steals a few more rough-cut french fries out of the big bucket we’ve placed in the center of the table.